Diary of a SAHD: She will not be contained.

It’s common to hear loud thumps coming from AM’s room while she’s sleeping. Once she could crawl it took her a while to find the hard boundaries of the crib and she would slam into the side with her head. Frank did it too, but with him we used to run in like commandos busting through the door of a hostage situation.

The second kid…eh?

I heard a comedienne talk about the treatment second and thirds kids get. She said with the first, if the pacifier hits the ground, it gets washed, boiled, and sent to the CDC for germ analysis before being returned, ironically, to the cesspool that is a toddlers mouth. The second kid’s binker hits the deck and you may wipe it on your leg or if near a sink, run it under some water. The third kid… you think “if there is enough dirt on that I may not have to feed him lunch.”

AM is getting the second kid treatment when it comes to bumps in the night. When we hear a thump from her room we go quiet, as if the silence allows us to analyze the thump and decide what object caused it. After a few seconds we look up at each other, “that was a book” or “she hit her head on the side.” We are about as accurate as weather predictions. But going quiet also allows us to ascertain if she’s crying or upset, in which case Tracy and I run to the car and go for a shake, checking the monitor when we get home in hope she’s fallen asleep.

However, one night we heard an unusually loud thump followed by what sounded like footsteps, then crying. Had no choice, we were going in. Besides it was too cold to run for a shake. The further up the stairs I got the more the crying sounded like it was coming from right behind the door. When I got to the outside of the door I hear more footsteps going away and no crying. Now I’m getting creeped out. Read a few posts back about my insane fear of the dark, which then catapults the mind into all kinds of frightening scenarios. I gotta stop watching Walking Dead.

But I have no choice. I gotta open the door, at the risk of a zombie mauling or not. When I do, I see a 21 month old kid who used to be in her crib, standing in the middle of the room with a look on her face like she knew she was in trouble. Turns out I was the one in trouble. She figured out how to get out of her crib. Did I mention she is 21 months old and born 3 1/2 months early? I’m sure it’s come up once or twice.

Big girl shoes already? Maybe a big girl bed too.

Big girl shoes already? Maybe a big girl bed too.

When Frank looked ready to jump for it the solution was easy. We just lowered his mattress to the bottom rung on his crib. Well AM’s mattress is already on the bottom. She’s using the fancy ledge on the front of the crib to support her arms as she lifts her entire body up and then flings her feet over the side. It’s a maneuver that allows her to land on her feet. It’s not the seeing the Great Wall of China from space amazing, but you can’t look away when she does it. We know she landed on her feet because there was only one thump. Had she fallen there would have been some associated noises, to include crashing into the small table next to the rocking chair.

So what to do? We can’t put a 21 month old a kid bed, can we? She’ll be out of that thing the minute we close the door. Plus she’s has already figured out how to open doors. Once AM gets enough body strength to turn the knob and push or pull at the same time, she will be running around the house all hours of the night like a freaking cat.

As former ESPN anchor Dan Patrick used to say about Michael Jordan, “You can’t stop him, you can only hope to contain him.”

Not to take anything away from Jordan, but I don’t think we’ll even be able to contain AM.

 

 

 

 

 

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